


Strawberries and Blood

by EveHypo555



Category: Thai Actor RPF, เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29170614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveHypo555/pseuds/EveHypo555
Summary: Prisoner 0064 has been sentenced to death by vampire bite. But his Executioner, Lord Suppasit, offers him a choice. If he allows the young lord to drink from him each night for a week, he can read his soul to determine whether he deserves to live or die.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Comments: 13
Kudos: 184





	Strawberries and Blood

Darkness descended upon New Bangkok. The hours of man had ended, and the world belonged once more to the vampires. Gulf could sense the night surrounding him, even though he could not see it. He had not seen the sky in so long. 

The door to his cell opened, and a guard dragged him from his bunk. Rough hands groped his body for his nightly physical examination, weighing him, measuring him, and seeing if he was found wanting. The guard nodded to a servant who brought in a tray. Set before him was a bowl of strawberries and green tea with honey. 

Gulf looked at the food and dread seeped into his bones. He'd heard this was what they fed prisoners the night they were taken to the young lord's chambers. He heard it made them taste especially sweet. 

He was bathed by servants and given fresh clothes to wear: loose linen pants and a white cotton shirt that they buttoned to his neck. He wanted to laugh, for it would do him no good. Perhaps the young lord preferred to toy with his food before eating it. 

They brought him to a chamber lit by a giant fireplace. How dramatic. He knew of many old vampire clans who had modernized with the rest of the world. It seemed the Jongcheveevat Family had not. He expected the furniture to be sumptuous and expensive, but it was simple. Traditional Thai furniture, the kind that had been built by hand and made to endure centuries. Perhaps it had. Perhaps the Jongcheveevats were a sentimental lot. 

The servant who escorted him removed his shackles. A pattern of scars on her arms showed where she had been bitten multiple times. 

"Will it be a quick death?" He asked her. 

She avoided his eyes. "I can't say." 

He was alone for some time. First ten minutes, then twenty. The fire dimmed, but of course he didn't know how to revive it. When would he have learned such a skill? He poked at it with a fireiron until he convinced himself it had made an improvement. 

"You have to let it breathe," said a voice. Gulf turned, dropping the tool. The sound of it echoed throughout the chamber. He stared at the man before him, knowing that he was no man at all. 

"I'm sorry," said Gulf, picking up the fire iron. "It was getting dark in here." He placed it back in the holder. There was no point in keeping it as a weapon. He would die one way or another.

"May I?" The young lord gestured at the fireplace. Gulf moved aside and watched as he rearranged the logs and added more wood to the flame. "Fires are like people. Stubborn. Predictable. And they need oxygen to live. You must always leave room between logs for airflow." 

Gulf wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this moment. The young Lord Suppasit was teaching him how to maintain a fire, as if he would live long enough to use this information. Did he intend to have him stoke the flames for the remaining hours of his life? 

His captor turned to study him. "Sit," he instructed. 

Gulf had heard stories of the young lord all his life. Fairy tales at first. The noble Lord Suppasit who had protected the monks during the First Vampire War back when Thailand was still called Siam. Historical accounts in school about the brilliant Lord Suppasit who helped bring Thailand into the modern age through engineering and infrastructure. And finally the insipid chatter of the vampire's fans who praised Lord Suppasit, patron of the arts, who founded art academies and sponsored arts festivals. But it was Lord Suppasit of the Thai Ministry of Justice whom Gulf had studied in the months he spent on death row. 

He looked upon the handsome face that he knew so well. It was the same face that stared down at him from portraits hung in public buildings. It was strange to see him at normal height, unlike the large statue that stood outside his university library. To think he once found him beautiful. Now, he would be his Executioner. 

"For what crime were you accused?" He asked Gulf. 

He could not stop himself from sneering. "What crime is anyone sent to die at the hands of an Executioner?" He looked into his eyes and found them sad. "For the murder of a vampire, my Lord." 

His captor made no change in expression. "Yes, but who was your victim? Were you wrongfully charged?" 

"Does it matter?"

"To me, yes." 

Gulf squirmed in his seat. The last thing he expected was conversation. Had he not been asked enough questions during his trial? "My Lord may read the court transcript if he wants all the information." 

Something flickered in the vampire's eyes. "Ah, but I was there." He leaned forward in his seat, his gaze looked almost sympathetic. "I want to know your story." 

Gulf laughed in spite of himself. "Does it amuse you, My Lord? Am I to entertain you in my final hour?" 

Amusement, in fact, shown upon the Executioner's face. He rose from his seat and gestured to a decanter and glass. "Drink? I can have the servants bring something else, if you prefer." 

He laughed again. "I thought Lord Suppasit only served justice." 

This time, the vampire laughed with him. "I have a much more extensive menu than that. Come." He motioned for him to follow. "Do let me know when your human needs arise. I always forget things such as food, drink, or restroom breaks. It's been a while for me." He opened the door from which he arrived. Already Gulf could hear the buzz of electronic devices. 

They left the orange glow of the fire-lit room and entered the sterile white of a modern home. Sleek leather furniture and metal tables populated the space. Everywhere there were desktop computers, tablets, televisions, and laptops. Video games, too, which Gulf chuckled at. And books. Books everywhere.

"Your office is much more… contemporary than I imagined," he said, taking in the finer details. Display cases lined one of the long walls, filled with figurines from anime and video games. It was not at all what Gulf imagined of the great Lord Suppasit, Scholar and Executioner. 

His captor stood with his hands behind his back, simply watching him. It made Gulf uneasy, though he had to admit he found it thrilling. All his life he had gained attention from vampires. It was the curse that landed him in his current situation. But he never imagined he would be stared at in this way by Lord Suppasit.

"You blushed just now," the young lord noted. "Is it because of me?" 

"And if I say yes?" Gulf eyed him from head to toe. He remembered his childhood infatuation with the young lord, his teenage fantasies of him. Did he hate him now, knowing he would be the one to take his life?

The vampire moved away from him and toward one of the desks. "You would not be the first," he said. His tone was neither mocking nor suggestive. It simply was. "But perhaps you would be the most interesting." He smiled at Gulf, no doubt hearing the increase in his heartbeat. So, the young lord did play with his food after all. 

"I would hear your story now," said Lord Suppasit. 

Gulf walked around the room. There were pictures from various times. Faded photographs of landmarks and of the young lord in clothing from the period. He always did look striking in traditional Thai costume. 

"May I ask how old my Lord is?" 

The vampire chuckled. "It's not on my Wikipedia page?" 

"Who said I read it?"

"Everyone researches their Executioner." 

The words stung at Gulf. He had made peace with his death weeks ago. He had prepared his soul for reincarnation. He was no longer afraid. But the reminder that it was Lord Suppasit who would extinguish his flame tore at his soul. If it had to be someone, perhaps it was fitting it should be him. 

"It's not listed," he said. 

The young lord typed away at his computer. "Would you like my immortal age or the age at which I was turned?"

Gulf had never considered asking his mortal age. "Both." 

From what Gulf remembered of his history lessons, the early Vampire clans would beget the next generation before being turned, to ensure the continuation of the bloodline. If a family member never married, they were turned before their 30th year. He also knew the practice was outlawed at some point after the generations multiplied to such a degree that they were overpopulated. The problem with immortal families, after all, is that nobody dies. But the law forbidding siring was passed only within the last one hundred years. 

Lord Suppasit paused in his typing. "I can't recall the year anymore, but I was turned during the reign of King Rama II."

Gulf looked at an antique sword that hung on the wall. "So… about 200 years old?" 

"Thereabouts." He resumed his work. His eyes never left the screen. 

"And your mortal age? I don't recall reading about your children."

He laughed and stood from his desk. He searched his endless shelves for a book before returning to his seat. "I never sired. I was too busy studying to fall in love."

"Can vampires love?" He realized too late how candid his question was. 

At last he looked at Gulf. There again were those sad eyes that began to eat at him. "I was human, remember? Like you." 

Gulf’s face burned hot. He knew his Lord could hear the blood thundering through his veins. "And can you love now?" 

The vampire gave him a wistful smile. "Are you trying to bargain for your life?" 

Gulf looked away, resuming his tour of the office. More shelves held record albums of music. Was there anything the young lord was not interested in? "Reincarnation versus the constant fear that my charm or beauty would no longer satisfy the great Lord Suppasit Jongcheveevat? A new existence or an undetermined amount of time as your consort?" He turned to him and grinned. "I'll take my chances in the next life." 

The young lord leaned his elbows on the desk. "And suppose it was love, as you said? Suppose I were to turn you, and we could spend eternity together? What then?"

The hairs on his skin stood up. He fought to conceal the shiver of his body, though he knew his Executioner could see it. The words seduced him, but he knew better than to hope. The young lord was punishing him for his insults. "Are you always so chatty with your victims?" 

His captor leaned back in his chair. "Are you always so bold?" 

“I won't spend the remainder of my life in fear. When else would I get a chance to question the great Lord Suppasit?" 

"Please," he said. "Call me P'Mew. There's no point in formality anymore." 

"Phi?" Gulf scoffed at the idea. "A couple hundred years too late for that, isn't it?" 

"Think of me as I was, a 29 year old man." 

"Then we'd both be on death row." 

Mew laughed and covered his face with a hand. "How right you are. Though I suspect only one of us is a murderer." 

Gulf looked at a guitar in the corner. He knew the young lord was a patron of the arts, but he didn't know he played. And to think, a year ago he would have swooned at such information. "And what would you do to me if I were innocent? Would you set me free?" 

"I could arrange for a retrial. I've done it before with other prisoners-"

"No," Gulf interrupted. "No retrial."

Mew raised an eyebrow, but pushed the matter no further. "If that is not an option, I would keep you here under my protection. You would become part of my staff." 

Gulf thought of the servant who had brought him to the other room. He recalled the bite marks on her flesh. "And do you feed on your staff?" 

Mew winced. "I detest that practice. My family doesn't do that. But considering many of our staff are former death row inmates, they're bound to bear the scars of their confrontations."

Gulf walked to the other end of the room. He stared at a painting of a small house. What kind of cruel joke was Mew playing? He'd never heard of such clemency in all his research. Death by Executioner was final unless issued a retrial. "Isn't this against the law you swore to uphold?"

His captor stood and joined him at the painting. He sighed and pointed at it. "Do you like it? It was my house when I was mortal. Now there's a 24 hour fitness center where it used to stand. And before that, it was a video rental store. I forget- were those from your lifetime?" 

Gulf laughed. "Just barely, but I don't really remember them." He studied his Executioner. How many times had he fantasized about meeting Lord Suppasit? His lifelong fascination drummed against his chest, quarrelling with the inescapable fact that he would die by his bite. He wanted to hate Mew. He wanted to fear him. 

"If anyone found out that I let my prisoners live, I would be removed from my government position for eternity, and sentenced to one human lifetime in prison." 

"One human lifetime in prison. You mean like your staff?" 

Gulf saw more amusement in his eyes. "My family's estate is a little better than the Thai Correctional Facility. Staff members get their own room. They get a salary. Their meals are provided. We even have wifi."

At this, Gulf had to laugh. But there was no way this could be true. It sounded too good. "How do you even determine who's guilty or not?" 

Mew smiled and took a seat on a sofa in the middle of the room. "You ate the strawberries, yes?" He grinned when Gulf nodded. "My sister has been working on a type of truth serum that she can cultivate in strawberries. Though, truth serum isn't quite the right word." 

"So, what, you question me while I'm on this serum?"

"I'm afraid it's not that easy," said Mew. "The specific properties of the strawberries allow me to get a sense of the person's… soul, for lack of a better word… when I drink their blood." 

He gulped, looking at the expression on his captor's face. He began to think he was telling the truth. "So, you would know tonight if I were guilty?" 

"Alas." He leaned back against the cushions and rubbed his temples. "The potency must build up in your system, but only a little at a time, otherwise it can be fatal."

"So then…" 

"Spend the week with me, let me drink your blood each night to monitor your saturation levels, and by then I should know." He looked at Gulf with a sudden curiosity. "What do you say, my prisoner? Will you bare your soul to me?" 

Gulf looked away from his Executioner. He didn't want his handsome face to influence his decision. It seemed obvious, of course. Prove his innocence and spare his life. But it didn't erase the fact that a crime had been committed, and that someone had committed it. 

"When you read souls, do you see their memories?" 

The vampire shook his head. "I'm afraid it's not as refined as that. I can sense your emotions, I can make out your character. I can tell the kind of person you are."

"Good people can be murderers." 

"Does that mean they should die?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I killed hundreds of my kind during the Vampire Wars, and instead of punishment I received medals. Is that fair?" 

Gulf sat opposite him in an armchair. "And why do you get the play god with people's lives?" 

"Because I have already been made their Executioner. All I can offer is a chance to live." 

Gulf weighed the options. If this was some sadistic game of Lord Suppasit's, it would at least lengthen his life by a week. What did he have to lose? He looked into the sad eyes of his Executioner and knelt before him. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and with shaking hands he slid the fabric down to his shoulders. 

"Drink, my Lord." 

______________________

Gulf awoke in a bed much softer than his prison bunk. The sheets smelled of something sweet, and the air around him was chilled. He felt a pinch in his hand and saw an IV attached to him. Of course. To replace the blood loss. How much had Mew drank from him? 

He searched his memories for what had happened. The last he could remember was baring his neck and feeling his captor's arms wrap around him. He touched the spot where he was bitten. A bandage had been placed over it. The pressure sent a small jolt of pain through his body, and as he did, the memories flooded back to him. 

He remembered the young lord's embrace. He was surprised to find his body was soft, like that of a human's. He wasn't warm, though. He held him with cold hands, looking into his eyes with a sincerity that burned into his heart. Cool lips brushed against the skin of his neck, followed by a sharpness that tore into his flesh. The pain seared him, blinding white, and just as quickly, it was gone. In its place came a rush of pleasure unlike he had ever experienced. It spread through his veins and made him cry out in ecstasy, clutching the back of Mew's shirt. 

Gulf grasped the sheets in his fists. The memory was so vivid. He looked under the blanket in embarrassment, noting his obvious arousal. It was not the first time thoughts of Lord Suppasit had put him in such a state. He hated that his Executioner could still affect him this way. If he did die by Mew's bite, at least it would not be a painful death. 

The door opened and the same servant from last night entered with a tray of food. Crispy pork and basil, soda, and a bowl of strawberries. 

"Thank you," he made Wai to her. 

She smiled and slid the tray onto his lap. "You survived your first bite. Did he give you any pain medication? Vampires always forget these things." She shook her head. 

"Pain?" He laughed. "I'm a little sore now, but the bite was… well, you know." 

She giggled. "Excruciating? I cried for nearly twenty minutes. P'Mew felt so bad he brought me some ice cream." 

Gulf laughed, too. The image of Mew holding an ice cream cone amused him. "Excruciating. That's funny."

"What's funny?" 

Panic filled his body. Didn't it feel good to her? "How long did the pain last for you?" 

She took a deep breath. "Well, it hurt the whole time and maybe an hour after it ended. I was still shaking when he came back with the ice cream." 

The monitor behind her beeped as his heart rate increased. "Is that typical for most people?" 

She scratched her head. "About an hour, yeah. I think a lot of people cry. Some scream. I heard P'Fence even passed out!" She laughed and shook her head. "A lot of us have been bitten by other vamps before, too. But everyone agrees, P'Mew's is the worst."

Gulf's mouth went dry. "The worst?"

She nodded solemnly. "P'Dune used to let vamps… you know… feed on him in exchange for drugs. He got used to the bites after a while. But he said P'Mew's was the most painful he ever experienced." She eyed him. "You passed out, didn't you?" She nudged his arm. 

Heat rushed to Gulf's face. He could feel the tops of his ears burning. "I don't remember much."

The woman laughed. "It's okay, I won't tell. My name's Lace, by the way."

Gulf nodded at her. He busied himself with his food, avoiding eye contact. "Thank you for the meal, P'Lace."

"Aw, baby…" she rubbed his arm. "Don't be embarrassed. At least you didn't like it, right?" Her laughter continued as she left the room. 

His Executioner arrived an hour later. He wore a blue business suit and his hair was combed to the side. Gulf wanted to ignore how dashing he looked, but the memories of the night before sat heavy in his chest. 

"Good evening," Mew greeted. "How do you feel? What's your pain level?" 

Gulf flushed again. "The wound is sore to the touch." He watched as Mew examined the monitor. 

"Everything looks good." He carefully removed the IV and placed a bandage over the wound. "Heart rate is healthy, same with blood pressure." 

Gulf twisted the sheets in his fingers. "My Lord… P'Mew." He tried to find the words. "Does everyone react to vampire bites the same way?" 

His Executioner looked up from his chart. "By and large. Was it especially painful for you?"

"I think you know it wasn't." 

Mew's eyes narrowed. "Did you experience something different?" He scratched the side of his head. "I think there was a study about-" 

"It felt good," said Gulf. He didn't bother to elaborate. 

Mew stood frozen. His eyes bore into Gulf's, searching for something. Gulf held his gaze as best he could, trying to fathom the expression on his captor's face. The air in his lungs evaporated. He, too, was frozen. 

"Is that so?" Asked Mew. 

Gulf nodded. What did it mean? "Is this the first time it's happened?" 

Mew sighed and sank down in an armchair. "There have been rare cases of such a thing. Bedtime stories, mostly. Presumably, it's a genetic mutation." He loosened his tie and removed his jacket. "Vampire saliva contains a mild venom of sorts. It's designed to stun, rather than kill. There have been less than a dozen subjects who claimed that a bite had a numbing effect for them. Even fewer experienced pleasure."

"But it's a real thing?"

Mew nodded. "Yes, but for those humans, the effect only occurs with one vampire. A bite from any other vampire would be painful." He laughed offhandedly. "It's why there are so few documented cases. The chance of two such individuals finding each other is…" He looked at Gulf with those now-familiar, sad eyes. 

"Fate?" 

Mew cleared his throat. "A scientific phenomenon." He rose and put his jacket back on. "I have some meetings to attend. I'll return later this evening. If you're strong enough, you may go anywhere in my portion of the house. Help yourself to whatever you like." 

"Your portion?" 

He nodded and counted on his fingers. "The study where we were last night, a small kitchen next to it, a library, and my room- well, now the medical room with an adjoining bathroom." He gestured to the bed in which Gulf lay. 

"This is your room?" 

"I don't sleep in here anymore," Mew reassured him. "For obvious reasons. I suppose that makes it your room now." His smile was so faint that Gulf wondered if he was imagining it. 

"Will anyone else be around?" Spending his days alone would be no different from his imprisonment, but for some reason it felt more profound. Perhaps he would get to see P'Lace at least. 

"I don't like to let prisoners near the other staff members during their observation week." He straightened his tie. "I don't want them getting attached to someone whose life might not be spared. N'Lace will be the only one attending to you." 

Gulf swung his legs over the side of the bed and tested them. He stood and wobbled a bit. "Hm. No worse than a night of rough…" he tensed, turning to see Mew's flustered expression. "...football." 

Mew rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, well. I trust you had a good lunch?" 

Gulf looked at the empty dishes. "Yes. Crispy pork and basil is my favorite."

"I know."

"Huh?" 

If it were possible for a vampire to blush, this would have been it. The Executioner cleared his throat. "Random trivia tends to transmit through the blood drawing process. Mostly superficial information, such as music preferences or favorite color. Nothing too personal." 

Gulf nodded and sat back on the bed. "Then, until later this evening?" He didn't mean for his voice to sound so hopeful. 

"Until this evening." 

______________

Mew's library resembled his study. Clean, white walls were lined with rows and rows of shelves. Plaques divided the collections into categories and genres. There was even a kiosk with a digital catalog to search for books. 

The late evening found Gulf laying on his stomach on the plush rug, surrounded by books and bags of snacks. He looked up when his Executioner arrived, noting his weary face. 

Gulf glanced at the mess around him. He gave Mew a sheepish smile. "I helped myself." 

The vampire shook his head, though he did not look upset. "All these movies and video games, yet you went for the books." He read one of the titles upside down. "Genetic Variations in Vampyric Transformation. A bit of light reading, I see." He smirked and sat behind his desk. 

Gulf shifted onto his side, watching him type away. Did he ever stop working? "I want to know what's wrong with me," he told him. "I want to know why your bite feels good to me." 

"Consider it a blessing," said his captor. Again, he didn't look up from his screen. "I've heard my bite is particularly painful." 

"Is there a reason you have to bite your prisoners to read their soul? Can't you drink a blood sample?" 

Mew chuckled. "If only. Unfortunately, there must be a bond between myself and the person whose soul I'm reading. The blood must flow directly from them to maintain the properties of transference." 

Gulf flipped a page in his book. "You speak so scientifically about all this. Haven't you ever wondered about the magic of it? You're a vampire, for fuck's sake. By definition, you're supernatural." 

Mew looked amused. He paused in his work and looked at Gulf. "Do you still believe in fairy tales, Nong?" 

He smirked and rolled into his back. "Held captive in a young lord's manor, where he visits me nightly to explore my soul." He looked at Mew and smiled. "Kind of seems like I'm in one, don't you think?" 

For the second time that evening, Gulf found his Executioner frozen in place. He blinked after a moment and shook his head. "I never imagined you to be a romantic." 

"The possibility of my death seems to bring out all kinds of surprises." He rolled back onto his side. "Do vampire bites hurt other vampires?" 

Mew resumed typing. "Yes. And it's much worse. We're highly sensitive to each other's venom. It's not lethal, but there have been times that biting has been used as torture." 

Gulf swallowed hard. "Did you administer that kind of torture, P'Mew?" 

His captor's jaw stiffened as he typed faster. "Yes. It was during the wars. When they found out how painful my bite was, they assigned me to intelligence extraction."

"And now you're an Executioner." Gulf sighed and turned another page. "Is this how you imagined spending your eternity?" 

Mew stood from his desk and joined Gulf on the rug. "I wanted to be an actor," he said. His voice sounded far away and dreamlike. "I can't remember receiving any of my medals after the first war, but I remember when the television was invented." He laughed and took the book from Gulf. 

"Is it time?" He unbuttoned his shirt.

Mew nodded and removed his bandage. "You heal quickly. Where do you want me?" 

"My Lord?" 

"I can bite you in the same place, to keep your scars at a minimum. But it will hurt more."

"I doubt it."

Mew laughed. "Or I can spread it around to distribute the soreness and dilute the pain of recovery." 

Gulf never imagined he would ever have such a conversation. It seemed absurd to him and yet how endearing it was. "I'm your prisoner. My body is yours." 

It was sadness once again in Mews eyes as he leaned over him. His cold fingers traced the forming scar and Gulf winced in pain. "I'm sorry," be whispered. "I wonder…" 

He leaned in close and ran his tongue over the wound. It burned at Gulf's flesh before melting away into bliss. He gasped and grabbed at Mew's arm. 

"Did that help?" He pulled away and looked at Gulf with earnest eyes. 

He nodded. "Again." 

Mew laughed softly. "Soon. Turn your head to the other side for me." 

Gulf did as he was told and felt again the piercing pain of Mew's fangs break his skin. He called out in agony at the shock of the fresh bite, but it ended as a moan. He clutched at Mew's shoulder, eyes shutting and nails digging into his shirt. Mew's arms wrapped around him and brought him closer as his bite deepened. 

Gulf grew harder by the second, his arousal turning him needy and desperate. Profanity spilled from his lips as his hand found its way to Mew's hair. A sound, feral and hungry, came from his Executioner. It resonated in Gulf's bones and flowed through veins. Did Mew get pleasure from this, too? From biting him, drinking from him? The thought alone drove him to the edge, overcoming all sense of control. He bit down on his lip, whimpering as he came. It happened so unexpectedly that he grabbed at Mew's hair, eliciting another growl against his neck. 

"My Lord…" he breathed. He felt Mew pull out of his flesh, followed by his tongue lapping at the wound. It tingled at the surface. 

Gulf pushed away at his captor, embarrassed at his reaction and the spreading wetness in his pants. He covered the damp spot and rose to his feet. Mew caught him as he stumbled. 

"Are you okay?" 

"I didn't… I didn't mean to," said Gulf. "I couldn't control it." 

Mew sighed and lifted him as if he weighed nothing. He carried him into the bedroom and laid him on the bed. "I'll get you a washcloth and some fresh clothes. You needn't be embarrassed." 

"Easy for you to say." 

Mew chuckled and headed for the bathroom. He left Gulf to clean and change alone before returning to his side to tend his wound. Gulf looked up at his captor, surprised that he could stand making eye contact after what happened. 

"P'Mew," he said. "Your sister chose strawberries because they were your favorite fruit, weren't they?" 

The young lord narrowed his eyes at him. "How do you know that?" 

A surge of excitement flooded his stomach. "I just know. As if the information were mine. I also know that the first instrument you learned to play was the piano." 

Mew's lips parted in shock. "But… how?" 

Gulf touched the new bandage on his neck. "I think I read your soul." 

__________

Gulf sat alone on the bed with his hand hooked up to the IV drip once more. He flipped aimlessly through Netflix on the television. Anything to distract him from last night. Mew had barely addressed the fact that Gulf might have read his soul, other than he would talk to his sister about it. He seemed frightened, though. 

P'Lace stopped by with more food and a change of clothes. She checked his vitals and unhooked him from the IV so he could shower. By the time he was finished, the sheets had been changed. 

He spent the day reading through the rest of the books he selected, helping himself to Mew's paper to take notes. He took breaks to look through the photographs on the walls. There was Mew astride a horse in ceremonial military uniform. A more modern photo showed him in the current uniform, dressed as an officer. Gulf couldn't determine which era's fashion made him look more handsome. Both, he decided. There were pictures of his several graduations, too. Lord Suppasit the war hero, the scholar, and the government official. But there was also Mew the wartime torturer and Executioner of death row inmates. What kind of man did that make him? Not that he was a man anymore. 

It was much later than the previous night when Mew arrived at the study. He looked even more exhausted. Gulf never knew vampires could get tired until he met the young lord. Mew rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, displaying the prominent veins that ran up his arms. Once, they had been full of Mew's mortal blood. Now, they would be filled with his own. A strange thought. 

His Executioner avoided eye contact. "Are you ready?" His voice was clinical. Detached. Gulf felt the emptiness of it in the pit of his stomach. 

"Can you tell yet if I deserve to live?" He asked. 

Mew shook his head. "The channels of communication are wide open between us. The problem is the serum hasn't built up enough in your system to give me a strong enough reading." 

"And what has My Lord learned about me now that he's tasted me twice?" He noted with pleasure how Mew seemed flustered at his choice of words. 

"It's strange," he said. "I can feel that you're a quiet person who prefers not to interact with others." 

"Is it that strange?" 

Mew gave him a weary smile. "It is, considering how bold and forward you are with me."

Gulf had to laugh at that. He supposed he did lower his walls around his captor. "Dying will do that to a person, I guess." 

"You speak so candidly of death. Aren't you afraid?" 

"Fear won't prevent it." He unbuttoned his shirt. "I've led a good life. Short, but I've made plenty of merit. I only hope my next life will be less lonely." 

The sadness had returned to Mew's eyes. "What a lovely hope to have. Much better than an eternity spent alone." 

Gulf lowered his shirt down to his shoulders. "Ready." He sat on the couch this time. 

Mew sat beside him, but as he reached for Gulf's body, it was to bring his shirt back around him. He buttoned it all the way up. "Not there." He pushed back the sleeve of Gulf's shirt to expose his forearm. 

The pain was less than before, and he wondered if that was why Mew chose the location. If the pain was dulled, then perhaps the pleasure was, too. The familiar sting throbbed against his arm, and he shut his eyes tight, waiting for it to give way. 

"Aaahh…" his body relaxed as the pleasure took control. Gulf opened his eyes to see Mew's mouth on him. With eyes shut and brows drawn together, his expression was one of rapture. He wondered again if Mew experienced a similar euphoria when he bit him. A soft moan escaped his lips, and Gulf's suspicion was confirmed. The sound of it echoed in his ears, causing him to stiffen once more. He fell back onto the cushions, his free hand running through his own hair and down his chest. 

"Harder," he pleaded. His boldness was rewarded with a secondary bite that caused him to cry out as the initial pain assaulted him. And when the pleasure returned, they moaned together. 

Music filled his ears. A love song from another time. Slow and sad and beautiful. He tasted chocolate on his tongue and the salty spray of the ocean. He felt the sun on his skin, and the coldness of ice cream drip over his fingers. 

It was over too quickly. Mew released him, leaving Gulf faint and delirious from the bite. His captor carried him once more to the bed and hooked him up to the IV. He felt the hiss and ecstasy of Mew's tongue across his skin before his wounds were dressed. 

"The beach," Gulf whispered. He reached up and ran his fingers through Mew's hair. "You love the beach and chocolate ice cream and shitty love songs." His heart skipped when he saw Mew lean into the touch.

"You like the mountains and the crisp high altitude air." He threaded his fingers with Gulf's. "You listen to rap, but not good rap." 

They laughed together and something fluttered in Gulf’s stomach. How could he be so giddy in the presence of the person who might take his life? Did he even believe anymore that Mew would execute him? Surely his anomaly would make him worth saving, if only to study it. And he would gladly allow Mew to bite him every night of his life for the sake of research. 

His captor seemed to remember himself, and he pulled away from Gulf's touch. "I apologize if I've crossed any lines." 

Gulf wanted to reach after him, but he had moved just out of arm's length. "There are no lines to cross. The channels between us are wide open, remember?" 

Mew's eyes turned sad again. "I have work that I need to finish. I'll bring you some water and I'll come back to check on you in an hour. Try to get some rest." 

Gulf's heart sank. What had he been hoping for? He watched Mew leave and he sighed when the door finally shut. He looked at the bandage on his arm, recalling the image of Mew clinging to him. For now, this memory would have to suffice. 

____________

"Your story," said the Executioner the next evening. "I would hear it now." 

Mew sat behind his desk. His elbows rested on the tabletop, hands clasped in front of him. Again, Gulf noted the clinical tone of his voice. But he couldn't disguise the sorrow in his eyes. Gulf sat in the armchair across from him, a book in his lap. 

"I was attacked. Simple as that." He scoffed and looked away. "The fact that I managed to kill the bastard still surprises me." 

"Do you regret your actions?"

"I regret taking a life. I don't regret defending myself." 

"How many humans were with you at the time of the attack?" 

"I was alone."

"Forensics says otherwise."

Gulf sneered and glared at his captor. "Then forensics was wrong. I'd just come from visiting my parents. Did they ever consider that their hair might have stuck to my clothes?" 

Mew nodded. "Yes, that possibility was taken into account. I'm talking about the mysterious blood found near the body. Human blood that had been tainted with gasoline to prevent a blood analysis." 

"It was a shady alley. Someone could have been mugged there."

Mew sighed and came to sit in the armchair next to him. "I'm trying to help you, Gulf. This isn't an interrogation. I'm trying to get your side of the story." 

"I already gave it to the police." 

A look of frustration crossed the vampire's face. "Who are you protecting?"

Gulf's heart pounded. He knew his reaction had given him away. Panic reigned over his body. Mew's gaze studied him for any tell, but Gulf kept his face blank. He couldn't hide his pulse or the rush of blood to his ears, but he could control what he said. 

"I was found guilty by a judge and sentenced to death via Executioner," he told Mew. "That's all you need to know." 

The vampire sank into the chair, massaging his temples. After a moment, he stood and motioned for Gulf to follow him to the couch. "Your other arm, please."

"Wait, my Lord." Gulf sat and faced him. "I want to discuss this book with you." 

Mew glanced at the cover and winced. "Found that, did you?" 

"You knew?" Anger flared up inside of him. "You've known all this time why I feel pleasure at your bite, and you never told me?" 

Mew took the book and laid it on the coffee table. "It's a myth, Gulf. Soulmates don't exist." 

"People used to say that about vampires." He reached out and touched Mew's cheek. "Are you saying you haven't felt it? The book even said soulmates can feel each other's spirit during the bite." 

Mew leaned into the touch for just a moment before pulling Gulf's hand back. "It's the strawberries, remember? The fact that you can read my soul could be a mutation in the fruit." 

"My Lord…" Gulf moved closer. "I haven't eaten the strawberries since the first night." 

"What?" Rage appeared on Mew's face. "Why would you do that? Do you want to die?" 

"If I really am protecting someone, why would I risk you finding out when you drink from me?" 

Mew pinched at the bridge of his nose. "That's impossible. I was getting a stronger reading each night."

Gulf ran his fingers through Mew's hair. "That's because I'm yours," he said. "And you are mine." 

His Executioner pulled away. Anguish filled his eyes. "And what would you have me do? Spare your life because of this?" 

Gulf shook his head. "I keep telling you, P'Mew. I've made peace with my death. My reincarnation will be a good one." He offered his hand. "But I won't spend what's left of my life being too afraid to pursue what I want. I want to try something. Will you take a small bite, just to read something real quick?" 

Mew looked reluctant, but he sank his teeth into the side of Gulf's hand. This time the pain was much shorter before leading into the pleasure. Gulf focused on specific memories and emotions, willing his blood to send them to Mew. His captor pulled away, wiping hastily at the blood still on his lips. 

"What did you do?" He licked at the wound to soothe it. "I felt… no, I saw myself in a vision. I've never seen images before." 

Gulf laughed. "Now you know that I've loved you my whole life."

Mew took several deep breaths. He clutched at his heart and chuckled. "So it seems." He shook his head. "And you have quite a dirty mind." 

They laughed together and Gulf touched his arm. "Do you grant final wishes, P'Mew?" 

His captor sighed. "Why? What would yours be?" 

"For you to love me." 

Mew shut his eyes and when he opened them, they were soft. "Don't you know?" He leaned forward. "You can't ask for something you already have." He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Gulf's. 

It felt like plunging into the sea, sudden and fierce. Weightless at first, but anchored down by something steady and unshakable. The bond that existed between their souls. Was it real? Was it possible that Mew could love him back? He pulled him closer, whining against his mouth, parting his lips to deepen the kiss. 

Fire coursed through his veins as the first sting of venom touched his tongue. He tugged Mew down on top of him, feeling his lover hard against his own erection as they rocked against each other. Gulf lifted his hips to seek more contact, and the groan he elicited set him ablaze. 

"Soulmates, huh?” Mew murmured against his lips. "I'm sure I could prove it scientifically." 

Gulf laughed and grabbed at his hair. "Shut up and drink already." He guided him toward his neck. 

The sharp pierce of his fangs sent him into ecstasy. There was no more pain, only the complete and utter bliss of the bite. He felt it run through his bloodstream, causing him to gasp and moan under Mew's embrace. The taste of wine filled his mouth and the scent of oranges swirled around him. Music played again, soft and melodic. The rhythm matched the pace of Mew's hips as he moved against his body. 

His captor pulled away. It felt too soon, and Gulf whined at the sudden loss. "More," he begged. 

Mew chuckled and nudged their noses together. "I don't want to take too much."

"Then let's do something else." He cocked an eyebrow. "Can vampires do those things?" 

Mew buried his face in his shoulder. "I can't handle your boldness sometimes." The shy confession made Gulf's heart swell. Of course he would love such a man. 

Gulf stroked his hair, thrusting upwards to tease him. "I've been in prison for a year and my soulmate's bite makes me cum. What did you expect?" 

He heard a growl against his skin and Mew lifted him from the couch and carried him to the bedroom. The sheets were cool to the touch, and Mew's body was warm from the fresh blood. His blood.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asked Gulf.

He laughed and reached up to caress his cheek. "That depends, I guess." 

"On?" 

"When's the last time you did this?" 

A blush spread across Mew's cheeks, aided by the warmth of Gulf's blood inside him. "Half a century ago." 

"Follow up question," said Gulf, sneaking in a peck on the lips. "What do you have in the way of lubrication?" 

Mew paused for a moment. "Wait." He stood and rummaged through the medical cart. "Lube," he said proudly. 

"Do I want to know why you have that?" 

He laughed and tossed it into the bed. "It's for physical exams."

"How romantic." 

He leaned over him and grinned. "Do I need to bite you to shut you up?" 

"Yes, please."

Mew eased him down onto the pillows and kissed him once more. Gulf hadn't realized how much he missed his lips until they were on him again, the sting of his venom heightening his senses. Steady fingers undid his buttons and spread his shirt open for Mew to press kisses along his chest. Each touch seemed to scald him, and he hissed at the flick of tongue at his nipple. 

They undressed in a blur, pushing and tugging at their clothes until they lay skin to skin, savoring the touch of each other's bodies. Mew's hands roamed every surface of him before he pushed at his entrance with wet fingers. He slid in slowly, working his way, and letting Gulf adjust to every centimeter. 

"Tease," he breathed, looking up into the fierce eyes of his soulmate. 

Mew slid the rest of his finger in, moving at a rhythm that made Gulf hum. He grabbed at the sheets as a second finger entered. The stretch and the ache of it sent him into rapture. 

"Oh, fuck…" Gulf shut his eyes as Mew scissored his fingers. "It may have been fifty years ago, but you still know what you're doing."

Mew chuckled before wrapping his mouth around Gulf's length. The wet heat enveloped him as he continued to tease him open. He squirmed from the stimulation of it. Mew moaned around his cock and he fought the urge to come then and there. 

"Want… you…" he begged. 

The weight and warmth of Mew pressed on top of him as he pushed gently at his entrance. Gulf moaned as every inch slid into his body. Fire, hot and sweet, coursed through his veins with every thrust from his captor. 

Mew groaned into his shoulder. His fingers traced their way up Gulf's legs and hips, gripping him tightly as the force of his thrusts grew stronger. He looked at him then, eyes fueled with want, drinking in the sight of his prisoner coming undone. 

Gulf reached for him, stroking his cheek with his thumb, gasping as Mew took it into his mouth. The sight alone made his blood rush, but as he felt the prick of Mew's fang against his skin, a litany of curses spilled from his lips and was swallowed by a kiss. Gulf tasted metal on his tongue and realized it was his own blood. He licked at it, greedy for the taste of himself on his lover.

"Drink," he begged. He braced his hips as each impact sent waves of pleasure through his body.

Mew quickened his pace. His sounds were needy and feverish, and Gulf clung to each moan as if it were his name. Each thrust caused that sweet ache that brought him to the edge. And as he hit the spot that made him see stars, he sank his fangs into the flesh of Gulf's neck. Gulf came with a strangled cry, spilling between them without needing to be touched. Mew made desperate noises as he pounded into him, calling out as he trembled and filled him with heat. 

Gulf clung to him as the remnant tingles of his orgasm ran through his body. He traced kisses up Mew's shoulder and neck, touching his face to kiss the blood on his lips. He sighed contentedly against his mouth. 

"Do you know that I love you?" Mew asked. 

"After just four nights?"

He licked at the wound on Gulf's neck. "Four nights and a year." 

"What?" 

"Come," said Mew. "Let's shower first and I'll tell you."

_____________

They lay curled in each other's arms. Mew ran his fingers through Gulf's damp hair and kissed his temple. 

"I told you I wanted to be an actor, yes?" He traced the shell of Gulf's ear with his finger. "I was visiting your university to make a donation and they asked if I wanted to see the broadcast station." 

Gulf laughed. "I did my internship there."

"That's where I first saw you." 

The words stopped his heart. He looked over his shoulder at him. "You saw me before?" 

Mew smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. "I saw your first broadcast. You looked so…"

"Handsome? Charming?"

"Awkward." Mew chuckled and kissed his pouting lips. "I never missed an episode of _The Ballroom_ after that."

He made a noise and squirmed in his arms. "Stalker," he teased.

Mew thrust his hips at him. "You touched yourself to a picture of me in your textbook." 

Gulf winced, recalling that he had sent that memory (or several of them) to Mew. "You were saying something about loving me?"

His soulmate laughed again. Gulf had never heard Mew laugh before they met- not in interviews or speeches or press conferences. He loved the sound and the fact that he brought it out from him. He loved bringing out all kinds of sounds from him. 

"Part of me loved you from afar, I suppose." He kissed his shoulder. "I tried to pull some strings and get you the best lawyer for your trial. I told you I was there for it." 

Gulf nodded. He remembered snapping at Mew and telling him he could read the court transcript if he wanted to hear his story. 

"And when you were sentenced to death," he continued, "I petitioned to be your Executioner. I wanted to give you a chance to live."

Gulf felt a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. "Just a chance, right?" He turned around to face him. "Tell me you wouldn't just let me live because you favored me."

Mew furrowed his brows. "I have too much bad karma against me already. I would have Executed you if I truly believed you should die." 

"Would have?" 

Mew's smile was warm. "I've seen more than enough of your soul to know that you're no murderer." He touched his cheek. "And neither is whomever you're protecting. That's why you were so willing to die, right? So nobody would investigate the real killer?" 

Gulf sighed. He knew he couldn't hide it forever. "I was on my way to meet my sister when I was attacked." He closed his eyes, summoning the scene in his head. "When I didn't show up, she came to look for me. I'd tried to fight him off, but I was in a pretty bad state by the time she found me in the alley."

"One broken leg, two broken ribs." Mew looked grim. 

He laughed. "Did you read the doctor's reports, too? Don't answer that." He wrapped his hand around Mew's outstretched finger. "He was just about to bite me when Grace bashed his head in and stabbed him in the heart. I'd probably be dead if she hadn't saved me."

Mew nodded and kissed his forehead. "And because the vampire turned out to be the son of an important family, you knew whomever was arrested for the crime wouldn't get off for self defense. And I guess you were right." 

"That's why I can't have a retrial. I can't risk Grace getting found out." Tears filled his eyes. 

"I'll take care of it. And I'll have some of my men keep an eye on your family."

He clung to Mew's shirt and kissed him. "You do love me."

Mew shrugged. "That and my men have been restless ever since I became a bureaucrat. They could use something to do." He laughed and wrapped his arms tighter around him. They lay there for a while, Gulf crying silently while Mew held him. 

"Now what?" He asked. "Do I become a member of your staff?" 

"I could use a new gardener."

"Don't tempt me." He poked his soulmate in the chest. "You're talking to a prisoner, remember? Do you know how long it's been since I've seen the…"

"The sun?" Mew laughed. "Does that mean you don't want me to turn you?" 

Gulf buried his face in his chest. "Too fast. Too many choices." Mew's fingers ran through his hair. 

"Can I show you something? It might help you make some decisions."

Mew led him out behind the house. It was strange being outside again. The night air was cool and crisp in his lungs, and he stared up at the sky for so long. Mew carried him the rest of the way so he could continue looking at the stars. They must have been far away from the light pollution of Bangkok to see so many of them. 

He set him down on the grass, far away from the house, close to the forestland that surrounded the Jongcheveevat Estate. Mew led him to a small clearing in the trees, where a house stood. Gulf recognized it from the painting in Mew's study. 

"Your house…" he started. 

"From when I was mortal, yes." He walked inside and beckoned for him to follow. "Not the original, of course. But this is where I live." 

Gulf noted the modest furnishings around him. It reminded him of the fire-lit room where he first met Mew. The simplicity appealed to him. 

"How is this supposed to help me make decisions?" He asked. 

Mew smiled and sat on the couch. "This could be your home. With me."

Gulf couldn't help but smirk. "I suppose as your consort, I would oversee the household?" 

Mew scoffed. "You wish. You could shadow N'Lace until she retires, if you want that kind of burden." 

"P'Lace? Isn't she a servant?" 

Mew's eyes widened. "Don't let her hear you say that." He shook his head. "N'Lace is my Head of Household Staff. She supervises everyone on the estate who reports to me."

"Gardening is starting to look more appealing."

Mew stood and wrapped his arms around him. "What if I appoint you as her 2nd in command until she retires, and then you can take over the position?" He kissed him softly. "It makes sense for you to eventually oversee the staff, as my partner. They would be your staff, too." 

Gulf was breathless. Everything was so overwhelming. In the span of a night, he had gone from wondering whether he would live to see next week, to suddenly planning eternity. Was he ready to take on the job of overseeing an entire estate? 

"You're nervous," said Mew. "Don't worry about it for now. Just something to think about for the future. You have all the time in the world to decide." He brought him back to the main house and hooked him up to the IV for the day. 

"Can't you stay with me?" Gulf asked. 

"I can't sleep so exposed," he told him. "The room in my house is as safe as a tomb." He grinned at his own joke. 

"I don't want to sleep," Gulf told him. "I don't want to wake up and find out it's been a dream." 

Mew caressed his cheek and kissed him. "It's no dream. It's real, and I love you. I'll be back this evening." 

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Gulf pulled out his pocket watch. He adjusted the minute hand on the grandfather clock to match his and closed the lid. 

"Dumb thing always falls behind," said P'Lace. She handed him his clipboard. "It's normally the downstairs maids who check all the clocks while they dust, so you'll want to make sure they stay on top of it. It's easy to forget." 

He followed her around the house, taking notes on the various responsibilities of the household staff. He never realized how much went into maintaining the estate. 

"Pork blood deliveries are made every other Thursday," she continued, opening the walk-in refrigerator. "Chicken blood is delivered on the first Monday of every month, and beef blood every other Wednesday."

"Every other Wednesday…" Gulf echoed as he made his notes. 

P'Lace leaned in toward him. "By the way, your husband pays too much for pork blood. I keep telling him to renegotiate with the supplier, but he won't listen to me." She quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe you could talk some sense into him. He listens to you." 

Gulf blushed. It was weird feeling his cheeks flush with blood that had come from a butcher's packet. It was one of the many small things that he was adjusting to as a new vampire. "I'll see what I can do." 

P'Lace winked and continued her tour. "Over here are the menus for the human staff…" 

_______________________________

Gulf heard his husband's footsteps as he entered the study of their home. "Tua-aeng, you won't believe the night I've had…" he stopped at the sight of Gulf behind his desk. "Are you working on something?" 

He smiled and tossed a book at him. Mew opened it to the dog eared page and read the portion that Gulf had highlighted. "The great saphenous vein begins at the dorsal venous arch at the top of the foot and runs up the inner side of the leg to the groin." He looked at Gulf with confusion in his eyes. "You're studying anatomy?"

Gulf smirked and stood up. Mew dropped the book when he saw that his husband wore nothing but a large white button up shirt. "More like I was giving you a map…" he sat on the edge of the desk and beckoned him with the crook of his finger. 

Mew stumbled forward, his hungry eyes washing over him. He halted when Gulf held up a hand. 

"Down," he ordered, pointing at the rug. 

Fire blazed in Mew's eyes and he lowered himself to his knees. He crawled the rest of the way on all fours, his gaze burning with want. He kneeled before him.

A single outstretched finger touched him on the ankle. "Dorsal venous arch… perforating vein… small saphenous vein." He traced his finger up from Gulf's foot to his calf, pushing his legs apart. He trailed kisses upwards from his knee. "Great saphenous vein."

Gulf gasped as Mew nipped and sucked at the soft flesh of his inner thigh, kissing it softly before biting into him. He cried out, grabbing Mew's hair, trembling as the pleasure thundered in his arteries. He tasted champagne. He heard the roar of the ocean and the call of seagulls overhead. The sound of Mew singing and playing the guitar filled his ears. 

Mew released him, licking the wound as it healed on its own. Gulf hummed happily and yanked his husband up by his tie. "You're overdressed, My Lord." Mew went to undo it, but Gulf stopped him. "Leave the tie. Lose everything else." He winked and pushed him away as he got down from the desk. 

The look of yearning on his face set Gulf ablaze. He backed Mew against the wall, sliding his knee between his legs. His husband did as he was told, working to undo his buttons as his eyes lingered on Gulf's lips. 

"Do you want to taste them?"

Mew nodded. His shirt fell to the ground and the clink of his belt echoed in the room. Gulf leaned forward, just close enough to make Mew whine as he delayed the kiss. He held him against the wall as he struggled to make contact. 

"Were you a good little bureaucrat today, my love?" Gulf smirked at his lover. He ran a finger down his silk tie. "Do you like taking orders?" 

Mew grinned and stopped fighting against Gulf's hold. "Only from you." He blew a kiss at him.

"Sap." 

"You like it."

Gulf rolled his eyes. He nudged Mew's chin with his nose, coaxing him to turn his head. "I like you better on your knees," he whispered before sinking his fangs into his neck. 

Mew gasped and grabbed at Gulf's back. He clung to him as Gulf drank in the fiery taste of his blood. Like whiskey, it poured down his throat hot and thick. He smelled parchment and ink and hot wax. He felt rough wood and woven fabric. It was Mew's soul that filled his veins and made his blood boil and sing. 

"I don't know if forever is real," said Mew. "All I know is I want to stay with you." 

Gulf withdrew, licking at the closing wound and kissing his way up to Mew's mouth. "That's all I want, too," he whispered. "So let's stay together for a long time." 


End file.
